


Remember As I Tell It

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Character of Color, Character Death Fix, Character of Color, Comment Fic, Community: poetry_fiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Kink Meme, Kinky, M/M, POV Character of Color, Prompt Fic, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Writing on Skin, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of Alex's back, he writes <em>murderer</em>, stretching the word to Alex's ribs, each curl of the letters making Alex shiver and skew the text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember As I Tell It

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains the eroticization of the word queer by a sexual minority. Written for [](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**poetry_fiction**](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/) 's [July Comment Fic Challenge](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/7372.html) and [this prompt](http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/4418.html?thread=5944386#t5944386) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/1stclass_kink/profile)[**1stclass_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/1stclass_kink/).

Armando takes a breath.

The first word he writes on Alex's skin is _queer_. Alex shudders as the q loops into the u, the last three letters a quick scrawl that stretch down the back of his left thigh.

"Do you want to know?" Armando asks, and hopes Alex says no.

His life's filled with too many of the dirty words, the ugly ones that lance deeper than the ones Alex has got to deal with. He twists the pen while he waits for Alex's answer, the point growing into a splotch that adds a starburst period to the end of the word, of _queer_ , his own thoughts emphasizing it as starkly as it stands on Alex's skin. It gives it finality, intimacy. _Queer_ , Armando thinks, and it echoes through his memories in off-hand remarks, mean little jokes on street corners, averted eyes in the back of his cab.

Alex shifts, and the pen skids farther down his thigh as he rolls his hips, trying to push up into the point of the pen. His face is buried in the crook of his arms like he's trying to hide from this, too. His answer is muffled.

Armando taps the end of the pen against Alex's ass. There's no one here. They have a room bigger than Armando's apartment, bigger than Alex's prison cell, and Charles promised that as long as they were together, building a team (building a family, no one says), he wouldn't listen in on their thoughts. No one knows what they're doing up here on the bed. No one's judging them.

"I can't hear you," Armando says.

He thinks he hears a faint _no_ , but it's not until Alex turns his head that he's sure. "No," Alex says, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Just—" He buries his face in his arms again, the words lost in the cave that he's created there.

"Okay."

 _NO_ is the second word that Armando writes, all capital letters scrawled big and bold at the base of Alex's spine. No to the possibility of World War III, no to hiding what ( _who_ ) they are, no to the whole damn world. Armando writes _NO_ again and punctuates it the same way he did _queer_.

In the middle of Alex's back, he writes _murderer_ , stretching the word to Alex's ribs, each curl of the letters making Alex shiver and skew the text. It's fitting, though. This isn't who they are. Their bodies have more secrets than this.

So beneath _murderer_ , Armando scrawls _liar_ and beneath that _MUTANT_ , and when he reads it, it all ends with _NO_.

He writes _we're more than this_ over Alex's right ass cheek, and it extends all the way to his knee. Alex jerks, messing up the last word, but Armando holds him down and finishes it.

"You still cool?" he asks when he's done, rubbing at a stray line with the tips of his fingers.

"Yeah," Alex says, and adds another quiet, "Yeah." Then he suddenly lifts up, whipping his head around to look at Armando. "You?" His Adam's apple bobs, mouth twisting like it's a hard swallow. "Are you cool?"

Armando huffs a laugh and pets Alex's back as he leans down for a quick kiss. "I'm groovy, man. Running out of space, though."

Alex flushes, eyes skidding left as his hand curls tight in the sheets.

"Hey," Armando says, and squeezes his shoulders. "It's cool. We'll keep it out of sight, if that's what you want."

"No." Alex looks at Armando, eyes wider than they should be, his muscles flexing beneath Armando's palm. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Armando grins as he skims a hand down, tracing the letters on Alex's back with the tip of one finger. "That your pretty boy lips suck good cock?"

Alex's reaction shouldn't be so funny, but Armando can't help a snicker when Alex rakes a hand through his hair and avoids looking at Armando. The dude must seriously think that's somehow gonna hide the way his face turns as red as all the power brimming beneath his skin or as red as the head of his cock, curved up thick now that it's not trapped against the bed anymore, the slit slick with pre-come. Armando takes it into his mouth, pushing Alex onto his back, sucking long and slow until Alex is squirming so hard that the ink rubs off onto the crisp white sheets.

~*~

Alex drops onto the bed, one leg cocked up, and Armando can see how dark and stretched his hole is, the puckered ring slick with lube and come. Armando uses his teeth to remove the cap on the pen, spits it over the side of the bed, and pushes two fingers into Alex as he writes _queer_ on one ass cheek and then _well fucked_ on the other.

"Fuck," Alex moans, and buries his face in the pillow, still scared (or worried or whatever word Alex decides to use this time) that someone's going to hear them.

If Erik and Charles find more mutants, maybe there will be one who'll listen in, who'll learn that Alex and Armando do the nasty every night unless Alex is too tired and sore from Erik's training. Armando hasn't hit his limits yet. Not that Erik hasn't tried every dirty method in the book to find one.

"Fu-u-ck," Alex moans again, the word broken by a gasp when Armando crooks his fingers and then twists.

He tries to write _FUCK_ on Alex's shoulder, but Alex twitches and the C streaks into a line across the back of his arm.

"Jesus, Darwin, I—"

Alex's breath hitches again when Armando pumps his fingers and writes _adapt_ between Alex's shoulder blades. Then Armando drops the pen, spreads his fingers, and shoves his tongue into Alex's stretched hole. Alex can't come again, but he shudders like he has.

~*~

"Morning, guys," Raven says with a bright smile.

Alex rubs the back of his neck and gives a low, mumbled, "Morning," that's missing most of the letters. No one's the wiser that Alex's voice is so rough 'cause he was sucking Armando's cock first thing this morning.

Alex buries his head in the fridge, and Armando sidles up to Raven, peeking into her mug. "Is that coffee?" he asks at the same time that he finds out it isn't.

Raven shakes her head. "Juice. It's way better," she says at the same time that Sean chimes in with, "Dude, coffee is gross."

"Is there anything to eat around here?" Alex asks, straightening and propping an arm on the fridge door.

That's when Charles waltzes into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at Alex. "Did you somehow miss all of the food in front of you, Alex?"

Alex ducks his head back into the fridge and starts pulling stuff out. He burns the toast, which Armando didn't think was possible, and undercooks the eggs. He slaps it all together in a sandwich that he eats anyway. Raven covers her mouth and leaves with a, "I have to go … do something. Important."

Sean leaves with a straightforward, "Oh, man, I can't believe you're eating that. I thought my brother was bad."

Armando makes a face, but it doesn't stop him from enjoying his grapefruit or pressing against Alex as he's putting his dish in the sink.

"Hey," Alex says when Armando kisses the side of his neck.

He wants to say, _See? No one cares_ , and blow Alex in the kitchen to prove it.

But then Erik walks in. He looks between them but all he says is, "Time for training. Meet me in the bunker when you're finished here."

~*~

When Alex hands him the pen and lays on his back, head propped up with a pillow, Armando kisses him first. Alex doesn't shy away, but there's a lot of tension in his shoulders, muscles bunched up tight beneath Armando's hands.

"What are you—"

But a face full of cock shuts Alex up and then Armando's mouth on his dick gets him on the same train. Alex comes first, and only after is he able to focus on Armando, taking every inch of him between his lips and sucking tight and wet and dirty the way Armando loves it.

Alex swallows, but Armando's still coming when his hand is steady enough to write, streaks of come smearing Alex's chin as he starts with _gives good head_ , underlining _good_ for emphasis.

He writes until Alex's chest and stomach and part of his left thigh are covered in words and phrases — everything from _nailed_ to _peace_ to _can't cook_. Alex traces a few of the words, quirks a grin at some of them and looks skittish about a couple, his eyes flying to Armando's face as he touches the space around them. They all get caressed, though, even if it takes Alex a while to get to a few of them.

"You got more you want to share?" he asks.

Armando laughs and slides up Alex's body to nab a kiss. "I got plenty," he says, and rubs the pen against Alex's shoulder.


End file.
